


Gone

by Mari_Marie



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Hurt Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Torture, Kidnapped Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, M/M, Protective Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:54:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28670316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mari_Marie/pseuds/Mari_Marie
Summary: Nicky disappears on a Tuesday. He goes to the market and doesn’t return; a routine errand becoming Joe’s worst nightmare.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 16
Kudos: 275





	Gone

**Author's Note:**

> Italicized dialogue represents the dialect Joe and Nicky use when they’re alone together.

Nicky disappears on a Tuesday. He goes to the market and doesn’t return; a routine errand becoming Joe’s worst nightmare.

“Maybe he – ”

“No.” Joe shakes his head, further dismissing whatever reason Nile was going to offer for Nicky’s delay. He appreciates her attempt to soothe the rising panic in his chest – which must also reflect on his face from the way she’s looking at him – but no. Nicky would not linger. He knows how Joe worries, how they both worry about the other, especially when they’re not together. “I should’ve gone with him.”

“We’ll find him,” is all Andy says as they head to town.

********

When they arrive, the market is crawling with activity like ants swarming an anthill. It’s the perfect cover for an abduction or any other nefarious intentions. They split up without a word, scattering to scour every nook.

Joe takes Nicky’s usual route, stopping when an older woman reaches for his arm.

“Are you looking for him?”

A vague question shouldn’t sound so specific.

“You’re with him sometimes,” the woman continues. “The quiet one with pale eyes.”

The description of his Nicky makes Joe’s heart ache. “Have you seen him today?”

“Yes. But he did not seem well.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was barely on his feet. Could barely walk.”

 _Drugged_ , Joe thinks as he glances around. Wondering how and when. With what? Why?

“He would have fallen if his companion – ”

“Companion?” Joe echoes, his tone harsher than intended. “Who? Who was with him?”

The woman shrugs. “Not a regular.”

Joe snatches one of the paper bags stacked beside the baskets of produce. It’s not his sketchbook, but it will have to do. “What did he look like?” he asks as he mimes for something to draw with.

“Not he,” the woman corrects, passing him a pencil. “She.”

********

When they meet up an hour later, Andy and Nile share similar accounts of an unsteady Nicky with an unknown woman. They both nod at Joe’s rough sketch, confirming it matches the descriptions they were given.

“So…what the fuck?” Nile demands. “And what now?”

********

Back at the safehouse, they regroup. Joe paces behind Nile as she searches dark corners of the Internet for clues while Andy growls at Copley over one of their burners.

“You’re ex-CIA, and you fucking owe us. Find him.”

********

That night Joe dreams of Nicky. He feels the dampness of the space lit by a single bulb dangling from the ceiling. He sees dilated pupils and blood-streaked skin followed by a mop of black hair falling to the floor. He hears a deep laugh and a taunting voice and wakes with a gasp.

Across the room, Andy and Nile are already awake. They stare at him, waiting.

“Not a woman,” he tells them. “A man.”

“But – ”

“ _Disguised_ as a woman,” he explains, rubbing his hand over his face.

“What about Nicky?”

“Definitely drugged.” Pupils blown so wide Joe couldn’t even see those piercing blue irises. He clenches his jaw. “And definitely hurt.”

“Healing?”

“Yes.”

_For now._

********

The next morning Copley arrives on their doorstep. He’s met with a gun in his face and two more pointed at his back. He doesn’t even flinch. “Guess I should’ve called first?”

********

Nile and Copley spend the day online while Andy and Joe go back to the market, then broaden their search to the town beyond. When they return to the house, there’s good news.

“We found him.”

********

“This is some old-school stalker shit,” Nile comments as she scrolls through a private chatroom on the dark web. She can feel Joe’s anger as he stands behind her, staring at the screen filled with photos taken a few days prior at the market; staged selfies to capture Nicky in the background.

 _New mark = new love_ the caption reads followed by a starry-eyed emoji, a heart-eyed emoji, and –

“Is that a knife?”

Nile nods, hesitant to keep scrolling because this – the photos, the captions – only gets worse. She scrolls through the replies.

_CONGRATS!_

_he’s GORGEOUS_

_bet he’s even more gorgeous when he screams_

She glances at Joe, unnerved by his eerie silence. His expressive face blank and unreadable.

“Keep going,” Andy says, her expression and tone unmistakable. Whoever is behind this is dying today.

********

They track the location through the IP address and approach the warehouse with the soundless fluidity that has become their trademark.

Moving as a separate but cohesive unit through the dark, Joe enters first; an unspoken understanding with Andy whenever Nicky is their mission. They clear the building in record time and find Nicky in the last room on the second floor.

His arms and legs are strapped to a metal table in a classic sacrificial pose, and he’s naked except for a surgical drape covering his groin. Every inch of his skin is smeared with blood drying in various stages; his most recent wounds sluggish to heal. He’s unconscious and cold to the touch, but a pulse flutters beneath Joe’s fingers when he presses them to Nicky’s neck.

“Is he – ” Nile’s question is interrupted as the door to an adjoining room creaks open.

The man who emerges is wearing an apron soaked with blood – _Nicky’s_ blood – and merely blinks when he realizes there are three pissed off people pointing their guns at him. “May I help you?” he asks, looking at them like they just wandered into a restaurant without a reservation.

Joe answers with a headshot; the bullet hitting dead center between the man’s eyes and dropping him where he stands.

********

The ride back to the house is a quiet one.

Andy drives while Nile sits shotgun. In the backseat, Joe holds Nicky, pulling the blanket they found in the trunk a little tighter, trying to warm him.

As the miles pass, Nile stares out the window, listening to the murmured Italian behind her. She doesn’t know what Joe is saying, but his desperation needs no translation.

********

Copley meets them at the door, his expression a mixture of shock and concern when Joe enters carrying a bloody, lifeless Nicky. “He’s…he’s not – ”

“No,” Andy tells him, watching Joe disappear down the hall. “He’s not.”

“Are you sure?” Nile hates how doubtful she sounds, but Nicky does not look good. He’s too still. Too pale. Too slow to finish healing. “I mean…” She shrugs, unable to put her spiraling thoughts into words.

Andy’s smile is tired but understanding. “He’ll be fine. Have a little faith, huh?”

Nile nods, fisting her cross pendant and thinking now might be the time to start praying again.

********

It takes almost two hours to clean away all the blood, and even then, Joe can still see flecks of it in Nicky’s hair. It lingers in other places as well – under his nails, in the creases of his knuckles, elbows, and knees – but Joe is satisfied enough to dress him.

“ _When you wake, we’ll shower_ ,” he promises, slipping boxers and sweatpants over Nicky’s hips, socks over his feet, and a hoodie over his head. He maneuvers Nicky under the blankets, then changes clothes and joins him; foregoing their usual sleeping position to face him instead. He wants to be the first thing Nicky sees when he opens those beautiful eyes.

********

“Yusuf.”

The voice is too soft to be real, like a whispered dream ghosting across his skin, but Joe would recognize it anywhere. He blinks awake, smiling at what greets him.

Nicky is weak and exhausted from blood loss, but he smiles back, a barely-there twitch of his lips. “ _I told him you would come._ ”

“ _Always, my love._ ” Joe kisses him and pulls him close, holding his life in his arms. “ _Always._ ”


End file.
